Rise of Empire (The Riyria Revelations #3-4)

“Ratibor wasn’t always Ratibor,” Quartz shouted back. “Once it was something bigger. All that’s been forgotten—buried like this sewer under centuries of dirt and manure.”


They moved on down the tunnel until they came to an alcove, little more than a recessed area surrounded by brick. Quartz leaned up against a wooden panel and gave a strong shove. The back shifted inward slightly. She put her fingers in the crack and slid the panel sideways, exposing a hidden tunnel. They entered and traveled up a short set of steps to a wooden door. Light seeped around its cracks and voices could be heard from the other side. Quartz knocked and opened it, revealing a large subterranean chamber filled with people.

Tables, chairs, desks, and bunk beds stacked four high filled the room, lit by numerous candles that spilled a wealth of waxy tears. A fire burned in a blackened cooking hearth, where a huge iron pot was suspended by a swivel arm. Several large chests lay open, displaying sorted contents of silverware, candlesticks, clothes, hats, cloaks, and even dresses. Still other chests held purses, shoes, and rope. At least one was partially filled with coins, mostly copper, but Arista spotted a few silver and an occasional gold tenent sparkling in the firelight. This last chest they closed the moment the door opened.

A dozen people filled the room, all young, thin predators, each dressed in an odd assortment of clothing.

“Welcome to the Rat’s Nest,” Quartz told them. “Rats, let me introduce you to the three travelers from Colnora.” Shoulders settled, hands pulled back from weapons, and Arista heard a number of exhales. “The older gent back there is Polish.” Quartz pointed over some heads at a tall, thin man with a scraggly beard and drooping eyes. He sported a tall black hat and a dramatic-looking cloak, like something a bishop would wear. “He’s our fearless leader.”

This comment drew a round of laughter.

“Damn you, Quartz!” a boy no older than nine cursed her.

“Sorry, Carat,” she told him. “They just walked into the Gnome while I was there.”

“We heard the Imps just crashed the Gnome,” Polish said.

“Aye, they did.” Quartz gleamed.

Eyes left them and focused abruptly on Quartz, who allowed herself a dramatic pause as she took a seat on a soft, beat-up chair, throwing her legs over the arm in a cavalier fashion. She obviously enjoyed the attention as the members of the room gathered around her.

“Emery was speeching again,” she began like a master storyteller addressing an eager audience. “This time people were actually listening. He might have gotten something started, but he got under Laven’s skin. Laven challenged him to a duel, but Emery says he’ll fight sword to dagger, which really irks Laven and he storms out of the Gnome. Emery shoulda known to beat it then, but the dispute with Laven gets him in real good with the crowd, see, so he keeps going.”

Arista noticed the thieves hanging on every word. They were enthralled as Quartz added to her tale’s drama with sweeping arm gestures.

“Laven, being the bastard that he is, goes to Bailiff Trenchon, right? And returns with the town garrison. They bust in and start arresting everyone for treason.”

“What’d Ayers do?” Polish asked excitedly.

“What could he do? He says, ‘What’s going on?’ and they tell him to shut up, so he does.”

“Anyone killed?” Carat asked.

“None that I saw, but I had to beat it out of there real quick like to save our guests here.”

“Did they take Emery?”

“I suppose so, but I didn’t see it.”

Polish crossed the room to face them up close. He nodded as if in approval and pulled absently on his thin beard.

“Princess Arista,” he said formally, and tipped his hat as he made a clumsy bow. “Please excuse the place. We don’t often entertain guests of your stature here, and quite frankly, we didn’t know when, or even if, you’d be coming.”

“If we had known, we’d have at least washed the rats!” someone in the back shouted, bringing more laughter.

“Quiet, you reprobate. You must forgive them, milady. They’re the lowest form of degenerates and their lifestyle only aggravates their condition. I try to elevate them, but as you can see, I’ve been less than successful.”

“That’s because you’re the biggest blackguard here, Polish,” Quartz shot at him.

Polish ignored the comment and moved to face Royce. “Duster?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

At the mention of that name, the whole room quieted and everyone pushed forward to get a better look.

“I thought he was bigger,” someone said.

“That’s not Duster,” Carat declared, bravely stepping forward. “He’s just an old man.”

“Carat,” Quartz said dismissively, “the cobbler’s new puppy is old compared to you.”

This brought forth more laughter and Carat kicked Quartz’s feet off the chair’s arm. “Shut up, freckle face.”

“The lad makes a good point,” Polish said.

“I don’t have that many freckles,” Quartz countered.

Polish rolled his eyes. “No, I meant just how do we really know this is Duster and the princess? Could be the Imps knew we were looking and are setting us up. Do you have any proof about who you are?”

As he said this, Arista noticed Polish let his hand drift casually to the long black dagger at his belt. Others in the room began to spread out, making slow but menacing movements. Only Quartz remained at ease on her chair.

Hadrian looked a bit concerned as Royce cast off his cloak, letting it fall to the floor. Eyes narrowed on him as they stared at the white-bladed dagger in his belt. Everyone waited anxiously for his next move. Royce surprised them by slowly unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it down to expose his left shoulder, revealing a scarred brand in the shape of an M.

Polish leaned forward and studied the scar. “The Mark of Manzant,” he said, and his expression changed to one of wonder. “Duster is the only living man known to have escaped that prison.”

They all nodded and murmured in awed tones as Royce put his cloak back on.

“He still doesn’t look like no monster to me,” Carat said with disdain.

“That’s only because you’ve never seen him first thing in the morning,” Hadrian told him. “He’s an absolute fiend until he’s had breakfast.”

This brought a chuckle from the Diamonds and a reluctant smile from Carat.

“Now that that’s settled, can we get to business?” Royce asked. “You need to send word to the Jewel that Etcher is a traitor and find out if a meeting has been set up with Gaunt.”

“All in good time,” Polish said. “First we have a very important matter to settle.”

“That’s right.” Quartz came to life, leapt to her feet, and took a seat at the main table. “Pay up, people!”

There were irritated grumblings as the thieves reluctantly pulled out purses and counted coins. They each set stacks of silver in front of Quartz. Polish joined her and they started counting together.

“You too, Set,” Quartz said. “You were down for half a stone.”